Dusk and Her Embrace
by AuroraHell
Summary: Light and darkness, good and evil... it's all in the eye of the beholder, isn't it? -- AU and OOC
1. Chapter 1

No, this is not what you think it is. At least not if you think what I think you think it is.

...

Okay, maybe it is. But I'll be trying _very hard_ to convince you otherwise!

The title is stolen from Cradle of Filth and might not even be fitting, but it has been the working title for so long now, I don't want to change it.

Main characters are property of Sunrise, all the rest is belong to me.

Well then, enter at own risk and expect nothing.

* * *

It was a cold and grey afternoon in Mid-November, the crimson disc of the sun was already hanging low over the cleft ridges of the Arkhynian mountains and mist was rising from its valleys.

A sole coach was travelling on the uneven dirt road meandering through the vast wilderness, rattling and clacking, the hooves of the four horses whirling up the fallen leaves as they were speeding through the autumnal woods.

In the dim interior of its cabin, the sole passenger of the stagecoach, a dark-haired woman of twenty years, wearing black leather trousers and a dark grey tweed jacket more suitable for a man, was jerked out of the light slumber she had been in for a short while. Groggily, she brushed a long strand of raven hair out of her face and shifted a bit, trying to find a more comfortable position in the corner of the cloth-covered seating bench. Tired, she closed her eyes again, wanting nothing more but to sleep but finding it almost impossible on this jolty ride.

When the coach went through another pothole, Natsuki Kruger opened her eyes with an annoyed groan, reluctantly accepting that her wish for rest would not be granted until they reached better roads.

Shifting again, she leaned a bit forward, moving her head closer to the window. Emerald eyes peered through the dusty glass, trying to find some diversion, but in the quickly fading light, the trees and everything starting from a few metres distance were not much more but fuzzy shadows flitting by.

Wind was soughing in through the many chinks of the old coach, the cold more perceivable than ever, and shivering, Natsuki wrapped the coarse horse rug closer around her. It was not the best season for travelling, but the last leg of her journey appeared to be by far the most cold and uncomfortable, or maybe it were just the strains of the previous days telling on her.

They were just hitting another pothole when suddenly, there was a loud cracking sound and then one rear corner of the coach was simply sacking down with a dull bang, directly followed by the other side.

The panicked neighing of the horses mixed with the driver's yelling as the coach was skidding, sliding to the side and almost tumbling over, and Natsuki found herself jumbled across the cabin together with her luggage that had not been fastened properly.

Eventually, the coach came to a halt in a slanting position, and then there was a moment of deadly silence before she could hear the horses again. A sudden yank went through the vehicle and it moved once more, then stopped again.

Natsuki freed her battered self from the mailbags that had lost part of their contents during the involuntary slide, and on wobbly legs, she teetered through the mess, towards the door, relieved that it could be opened without any problems. She carefully climbed outside and quickly scanned her surroundings, trying to adjust to the new situation.

The coach had slid off the road, and was now standing on the slanted, grassy wayside, the rear end sitting on the ground, slightly driven into the soil, the wheels missing. The horses were nervously snorting and neighing, erratically pulling at their harness, trying to move the coach or free themselves, but to no avail.

Her eyes darted back to the road, where a few metres away, she could make out the body of the driver lying motionless on the ground, not far away from the broken and splintered wheels and rear axle. She started walking towards the driver, her pace quickening, relieved when he started to move, slowly sitting up.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

The middle-aged man didn't answer immediately. Dazed, he was looking around, only after some time clumsily scrambling to his feet. He made a few limping steps, to where she could see his grey flat cap lying on the ground. Bending down, he picked up it up, beating and brushing off the dirt a bit before putting it back on.

"Ya...," he answered slowly her earlier question, his eyes wandering over the ground again. "...broken axle, now of all times."

He lifted his gaze to the western horizon, where the sun was nothing more but a thin band of blood red light, setting the dark silhouettes of the pine trees ablaze.

"What 'ave I done to deserve this fate?" muttered the man, and seemingly awakened from his daze, he hobbled quickly towards the coach and the horses.

Natsuki followed him, watching how he lightly patted the discomposed animals, one after the other, and talked to them in a soothing voice.

"You can ride?" he asked then, looking up to the slightly taller woman, and she nodded. "Without a saddle?"

"Yes."

"Good," he replied and started to deftly unharness one of the front horses. "We'll take the horses an' what we can carry an' get out of 'ere. Bloody darkness..."

After partly unharnessing the first horse and freeing it from the drawbar, the coachman motioned Natsuki to come closer and gave her its reins to hold. "Don' let go," he said, "an' watch that it doesn' push you."

The dark-haired woman just nodded. He didn't need to tell her that, she knew how to handle horses.

The man walked to the front of the coach, past the wheelers, fumbling in his pocket and bringing out a box of matches. After opening the carriage lamp there, he lit the candle inside, and then closed the lamp again.

"Better," he said with a content voice and then quickly returned to the other front horse to unharness it, too.

"What about the collars?" asked Natsuki, sidestepping to evade her horse who was trying to nudge her again in the back with its nose to get her attention.

The man shook his head. "No time, no time..." he mumbled, leading the other front horse to her, handing her its reins as well.

The procedure was repeated with one of the wheelers, and now Natsuki literally had her hands full with holding the reins of the three horses and keeping them under control.

When the coacher was busy with unharnessing the last of the horses, her ears caught a faint, familiar sound in the distance, from the direction they had come from. She closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating solely on the sound. Yes, without doubt... "Another carriage is approaching!" she exclaimed with excitement.

"What?" Alarmed, the driver looked up from his task. "You sure? Where?" he spluttered, his voice agitated.

"Down there," she answered, carefully motioning with one of her arms down the road, surprised by the man's reaction. "I can see its lamps now," she added, her eyes intensely staring into the gloomy twilight, observing the little lights flickering now and then in the distance. Soon, she could make out the shadowy silhouettes of the horses and the coach itself.

She was so absorbed in watching the other carriage approach, that she took no notice of the coachman who had removed the last horses traces in great haste and was now moving it a few steps away from the coach's drawbar just as hurriedly. Holding on to its collar, he vaulted onto the horse, and as soon as he was on top, he gripped the reins tighter and shortly rammed his heels into the animal's flanks.

"HEYAH!"

Startled by the sudden yell of the coacher and the neighing of its horse as they were dashing off, Natsuki spun around. She was still trying to register what was happening, when the remaining horses she was holding started to bolt and teared at their reins, making her trip and fall onto the hard ground, dragging her along a few feet until she eventually managed to let go.

For a moment, she lay completely immobile in the dust and dirt of the stone cold road, dazed by the sudden shock and pain of the fall, the sound of the horses running off reaching her ears only muted.

But there was another sound, the sound of hoofbeats quickly approaching, and that was the sound that roused her, making her jump onto her feet and get away from the middle of the street and hurry to the wayside.

There she stood, her eyes fixed on the unknown coach coming closer, its flickering lights illuminating two huge, black horses, darker than the night around them.

The coacher on the perch was wrapped in a black overcoat, a top hat of the same colour adorning his head, and even though he was sitting, it was evident that he was of imposing built. He made the horses slow down, the coach eventually halting in front of her.

It was an enclosed carriage with two doors at the sides, just like the stagecoach, but it was much smaller and most likely with only two seats and not four. And it was black like everything else.

The coacher was looking at her but remained silent, and now that he was relatively close, Natsuki realised that he was already quite old, his hair silvery grey under his hat.

Just when she was about to ask for help, the door of the coach opened, and a woman - probably of her own age - appeared, with one gloved hand lifting her black coat and the dress underneath a bit while climbing out of the vehicle, shortly revealing elegant high-heeled laced boots.

She was slender, almost fragile looking, and tall - maybe even a bit taller than Natsuki herself, and she was already of quite tall built for a woman. The majority of the stranger's long, light brown hair was tied up in a complicated looking bun, only the bangs and two long strands were framing an extremely pale face, and her eyes were of an even in the dim lanterns' light amazingly bright crimson. And even though she appeared to be a bit sickly, Natsuki couldn't help but think that the woman was of unearthly beauty.

The lady shortly looked at Natsuki's battered self and the broken carriage, quickly judging the situation while closing the coach door behind her. "Oh my, it seems you are in quite a bit of trouble here. Can we be of any help?"

She spoke softly, yet her words reached the dark-haired woman's ears clearly, like a gentle melody resonating with warmth floating through the crisp autumn air.

"Ye-yes," stuttered Natsuki, inwardly frowning afterwards. What the hell was the matter with her? Why was she suddenly stuttering like that?

She cleared her throat, trying to ignore the blush that was creeping onto her cheeks, and started anew. "Yes," she repeated with a firm voice. "Maybe you could take me with you? Are you going to Andoire?"

The lady didn not answer directly, instead she vaguely nodded and then said, "You are alone?" It was half question, half statement.

"The coacher... left without me...," replied Natsuki, not wanting and not being able to explain the past events exactly. "And I was the only passenger. So yes, I'm alone."

There was another, understanding nod from the lady. "Well," she began, "it is already quite late and we travelled a long way, I am afraid we will not be able to bring you to Andoire this evening. But my estate is not far away, I can provide you with accommodation for tonight, and Igor will then bring you to town tomorrow."

Natsuki breathed with relief, she had already feared she would have to spend the night in the forest, walking for hours in the dark and cold until she got somewhere. "That's very kind of you," she replied thankful, "I gladly accept your generous offer."

"Well then." The other woman gave her a gentle smile. "Did you bring any luggage with you?"

"Yes, it's still in the coach."

The lady nodded once more. "Igor?" she asked, looking up to the coacher.

"Yes, Milady," answered the man with a deep and hoarse voice. He put the reins out of his hands, letting them loosely hang over the carriage perch's front panel, and climbed swiftly down.

When he was walking over to the crashed coach, the brunette came closer and then went past Natsuki, up to the horses. She took one's reins close to the bridle, and lightly patted its neck, then stroking it, and the thought that she would in no way be able to hold the horses if they should bolt flitted through Natsuki's mind. As if she had noticed the other woman's gaze, the lady turned her head, her crimson eyes curiously looking at her, and that entrancing smile appeared on her lips again.

Found out, Natsuki felt her cheeks starting to glow, and embarrassed, she quickly turned her head, averting the other's looks.

She had completely forgotten about Igor and the luggage, and as she saw how he was trying to open the large box at the coach's rear, she started to move, shouting, "No, my luggage's not in there, it's inside the coach."

The tall man stopped his efforts and turned to her, a surprised expression on his face.

"The box was already full with goods to transport and since I was the only passenger, I was told to take it inside," she explained.

Igor nodded and then went to open the coach door, Natsuki on his heels. "The holdall and the duffel bag?" he asked.

"Ya," came the raven-haired woman's surprised answer as she was peering into the dark interior of the coach past his shoulders. She could barely see anything and yet Igor had found her bags immediately with just one short glance.

He climbed inside, cowering to not bump his head at the ceiling, and threw the duffel bag over his shoulder, then took the holdall, and a few seconds later, he was standing outside again. Motioning with his head to the coach, he asked "Could you close the door and put out the candle?"

Nodding, Natsuki shut the carriage door and then moved over to the lamp, out of the corner of her eyes watching how Igor carried her things to their coach. It was not only the ease with which he handled the not so light luggage, but also the way he walked, the way he moved, that made her think that he was not an ordinary coachman. There was probably a reason why he and his mistress dared to travel this deserted roads all alone and were even taking along strangers.

She hurried to extinguish the candle and then went back to the other coach where Igor was already putting her bags into the luggage box at the rear end.

The crimson-eyed lady, who had been with the horses all the time, let go of the reins when he was finished and coming back, ready to climb up to his seat and take the reins again. She then went to the coach door and opened it, but Natsuki had not much time to wonder why she was opening it herself anyway because the lady looked at her again, smiling. "Pray, do enter," she said, with a gesture of her hand inviting her to climb into the coach.

And Natsuki stood nonplussed for a moment, she had thought she would have to sit on the box seat, next to the driver who had so much of a bodyguard. That would be a far safer place to put a complete stranger she had picked up in the nocturnal woods, wouldn't it?

Crimson eyes still watched her expectantly, and the raven-haired woman hurried to follow the invitation, quickly climbing inside the coach.

She couldn't see much, but it was a two seater, just as she had assumed earlier, though a very spacious one. The seating bench offered likely enough room for three normal sized people, and there was lots of space for the passenger's legs.

She was about to sit down on the diffuse shadow that was the bench, when the brunette, who had entered behind her, suddenly exclaimed, "No, not on my hat!"

Natsuki froze, bottom half hanging over the seat.

"I am sorry, I forgot that I put it there," continued the lady while Natsuki slowly straightened up - as much as that was possible with the low ceiling of the coach. The former took her hat from the seat, and as she was holding it in her hands, the raven-haired woman could make out the silhouette of something round with feathers attached to it.

"Pray, sit down," said the brunette, and upon noticing the other's hesitation, she added with mirth in her voice, "I only have one hat, it is safe now."

"Okay," mumbled Natsuki and, still a bit suspicious, she carefully took her seat, thankful that it was so dark in the carriage that the flush on her cheeks would remain unnoticed.

The other woman then knocked twice at the coach's front wall - the sign for Igor that he could drive off. But he waited a bit and she had enough time to sit down, laying the hat on her lap.

And then the coach started moving, rumbling over the jolty road, quickly gaining speed, and Natsuki turned to her hostess, abashed saying, "Pray forgive my rudeness, I have not yet introduced myself. My name's Kruger, Natsuki Kruger."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms Kruger," replied the other cordially. "I am Lady Shizuru Viola. And pray do not worry, I do not consider you as rude. After all, I forgot to introduce myself as well."

"Hm," was the raven-haired woman's taciturn answer. So she was indeed of nobility, she mused, although the lady had not given her full title and rank. Viola... she couldn't remember having heard of a house of that name, but you can't know them all, can you?

After a short while of silence, Natsuki turned to Lady Viola again and asked, "Do you often pick up strangers from the wayside?"

"No, there are not many strangers on the wayside, waiting to be picked up."

"No, I meant... I mean...," spluttered Natsuki, only then noticing that the other had misunderstood her on purpose. "You never know who you meet," she ended half-heartedly.

"That is true," admitted Lady Viola thoughtfully, "you never know." There was a short pause, and then she asked in a mischievous voice, "Why, does that mean I should be worried about your presence here, Ms Kruger?"

"No! No... of course not."

A mirthful chuckle was the answer, and frowning, the dark-haired woman crossed her arms, deciding that, if the other was just bantering with her, she would not talk anymore. For the moment.

That intention was thwarted, however, when the brown-haired lady continued their conversation. "To answer your question," she said, "no, I do not often pick up strangers. In fact, I have never picked someone up before."

Natsuki cast an inquiring glance at her. "Why me then?"

"Well... you were all alone in the woods with a broken carriage and no horses... I could not just leave you there without offering my help, could I? The woods can be a rather... hostile place at night."

"Yea... I guess I can consider myself really lucky that you came by."

"Yes, probably... Not many coaches travel these roads. And during the winter months, the stagecoach is pretty much the only carriage that you might encounter. It is not very likely to get help if something happens."

"Hm," made Natsuki, trying to suppress a yawn.

"Tired?"

"A bit," she admitted, though this was sheer understatement.

"We will be on the road for at least another half hour. I will not mind if you take a nap until we arrive. Actually, I feel a bit sleepy myself, it hass been a long day."

"Oh, I don't really think I'll be able to sleep... I tried to sleep in the stagecoach, but it was plainly impossible, every minute we went through another pothole."

The lady let out a soft chuckle. "Yes, it can be quite unnerving."

They both fell silent after that, and maybe it was that the roads had got better or maybe that the springs of this coach offered better suspension, but Natsuki was sound asleep shortly later.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the reviews, gals'n'guys!

And we have an Igor fan :) (Igor is a great guy, really.)

* * *

Natsuki woke up again when someone lightly nudged her shoulder, and a soft voice whispered, "Wake up, we are almost there."

Torn out of her slumber way too soon, Natsuki felt a bit dizzy, and she screwed up her eyes for a moment, trying to chase away the sleepiness. "Sorry," she mumbled then, "I did fall asleep after all."

"I told you I would not mind," was Lady Viola's reassuring answer, her warm voice sporting that mirthful tone again. It dropped almost to a whisper as she leaned closer and discretely added, "You have some drool on your chin."

Startled, Natsuki's hand shot up, frantically rubbing her chin, the heat rising to her cheeks as her fingers felt something that could have very well been half-dried drool. But the wave of embarrassment quickly subsided as a sudden thought crossed her mind, and she looked perplexed at the woman next to her. She could barely make out the contours of the other's face in this gloomy light, how could she have seen something as insignificant as drool on her chin?

Her train of thought got cut off when the coach halted and she turned her head to look out of the window but could see nothing but the vague silhouettes of trees.

"We are at the entrance gate," said Lady Viola, and Natsuki shortly looked back to her before peering out of the window again.

The coach started to move on, and now she could see that they were passing some kind of stone wall. Then they were standing again, and Igor went by the window - to close the gate again, she assumed. He returned shortly later and they drove on, past a gloomy scenery of more trees and shrubbery.

Not long, and the trees cleared and they came into a yard that seemed to be more or less enclosed by three buildings and looked pretty much like a farmyard. To their left was the manor, a daunting three storey stone building, and to the right Natsuki could make out two barns, one shaped like an 'L' and partly open, while the smaller one now lying behind them was completely enclosed.

The coach halted in front of the manor's entrance and while Natsuki was still staring out of the window to take in all that her eyes could see, Lady Viola already got up from her seat and opened the door. She climbed out and then looked back inside. "Come," she said, giving her that warm smile again and Natsuki hurried to get out, too.

Igor had also climbed down from his seat and was now going up the narrowing stone stairs leading to the broad, darkly painted, wooden entrance door. There he took a key out of his pocket and opened the door, then went back down and to the coach.

"Come," said Lady Viola beside her again, lightly touching her arm. "Igor will take care of our luggage."

The raven-haired woman nodded and slowly followed the other upstairs, admiring the large bronze knocker on the door as they entered. It was a beautifully modelled wolf's head with a ring in its mouth.

Noticing her glances, the lady asked, "You like it?"

"Yes," mumbled Natsuki quickly, blushing again. "It's beautiful." If Lady Viola had not been standing next to her, she would have touched it and traced the detailed contours with her fingers.

"The wolf is my family's heraldic animal," explained Lady Viola with that charming smile of hers while stepping further into the entrance hall, and Natsuki cast one last longing look to the wolf's head before turning her attention to the manor's interior.

Contrary to its cool exterior, the inside was kept in warm and friendly colours. The floor was tiled with flags of red and grey sandstone, the walls painted in a vermilion red hue and adorned with tapestry and oil paintings of nobly dressed, serious looking men and women. Leading from the right half of the hall up to the gallery on the first floor was a broad, bent staircase made of dark wood, its banisters artistically ornamented. In the middle of the hall, from the high ceiling that was supported by several stone columns, hung a large chandelier, though not all of its candles had been ignited, causing the light to be somewhat dim. And even though there was no sign of an oven or other source of warmth, the hall appeared to be nicely tempered, but maybe it was just the absence of the cold November wind.

"Marianne! Marianne! We are back! We brought a guest!" shouted Lady Viola, walking slowly further into the hall, towards a door at the left.

Before she had reached it, it was opened and a friendly looking, slightly rotund, elderly woman with brown hair that was tied into a bun appeared, wiping her hands on the more or less white apron she wore over a grey cotton dress. Her brown eyes were lighting up as they caught sight of the lady, and with much affection she said, "Welcome home." As her eyes fell on Natsuki, her look turned puzzled, and somewhat surprised.

"Marianne, this is Ms Kruger who will be staying with us tonight," explained Lady Viola, and Marianne, eyeing the dark-haired woman once more, nodded and indicated something like a curtsy.

"Do you want me to heat some water?" she asked then and her mistress nodded.

"Yes, that would be very nice."

"Alright," mumbled the servant and hurried back through the door she had come from.

Turning to her guest, the brown-haired woman suggested, "Let us put away our jackets," and started moving towards the stairs.

Natsuki followed her, not upstairs as she had assumed, but around the foot of the staircase. There, between the wall of the entrance hall and the bent the stairs made, was some small, open cloakroom of sorts: a wooden rack with coat hooks was fastened to the side of the staircase, and next to it, standing at the wall, a low chest of drawers with a mirror fixed on its top.

Lady Viola put the stylish feather thing called hat onto the chest of drawers and then took off one of her gloves, asking the other to hang her jacket onto the coat rack.

And Natsuki did as she said, undoing her jacket's buttons and taking it off, revealing the tight-fitting, front-laced, dark blue bodice she wore over the long-sleeved white shirt that was tucked into her trousers. Slightly turning and stepping in front of the rack as she wanted to hang her jacket on one of the hooks, she noticed that the other, hands paused at the buttons of her half opened coat, was looking at her in a way she could not quite decipher. Suddenly feeling terribly self-conscious, Natsuki stopped in her movement, holding on to her jacket.

When confused emerald eyes met her own, the brunette blushed, averting her gaze, and quickly continued to unbutton her coat. "Your... your jacket got a bit dirty and wet, did it not?" she asked, nervously glancing over to Natsuki while taking off the coat.

The dark-haired woman nodded, her eyes unconsciously running over the other's form now only clad in an all black dress that was undoubtedly made of finest cloth and conveyed an air of subtle elegance. The bodice was rather simply cut and almost plain looking, with long sleeves and a high, squared neckline, completely covering the shoulders. And while the former was tight, the skirt was flowing loosely, widening from the waist towards the flared hem by means of gored panels. Only on second glance did Natsuki notice the black flower embroidery that gave the cloth of the gown its subtle pattern.

"We can put it in the dry room," continued Lady Viola while stepping beside her and hanging away her coat, "then it will surely have dried when you leave again tomorrow."

Natsuki nodded again and the noble guided her around the steps and through the door Marianne had disappeared behind, which turned out to lead into the kitchen of the mansion. But to her surprise, it was deserted and there was no sign of the servant, the kerosene lamp on the table in the middle of the room illuminating an orphaned bowl with peeled potatoes.

The room had a cozy feeling to it, the comfortable warmth radiating from the stew stove made of masonry which was standing at the back wall. At the outer wall to the left, beneath a row of windows, was a long worktop with a few bowls in various sizes standing on it. Several cupboards were aligned at the other walls, and to the right, framed by two cabinets, was another door leading out of the kitchen.

Upon noticing her guest's curious looks, Lady Viola remarked, "Marianne is probably outside, fetching water from the well."

Natsuki nodded vaguely as she followed her towards the other door, her something more pressing was occupying her thoughts at the moment.

The dim room next door was inhered by the scent of freshly washed linen, and in the faint lamplight coming from the kitchen behind her and the pale moonlight filtering through the small lights of another door to their left, she could vaguely make out the contours of clothes hanging on lines that were installed in the back of the room.

"This was part of the laundry once," noted Lady Viola. "But at some point the laundry was divided into two separate rooms, one to wash the clothes and one to dry them. The masonry heater there at the wall gets fuelled by the fire heating the washing copper in the next room, so when you heat the water and do the laundry, this room is automatically nicely tempered - at least during winter; in summer, it is often unpleasantly warm in here."

Again, Natsuki nodded absentmindedly, her fingers nervously playing with the jacket they were holding. "Could - could you shew me the way to the outhouse?" she eventually asked, cheeks slightly flushed.

"Oh," Lady Viola halted in surprise. "Oh yes, of course," she quickly added "I am sorry, I should have been more considerate and brought it up myself."

"It is some way behind the barn, we can go from here, it is the shortest route anyway," she said while going to the coat rack that was attached to the wall next to the door and holding several smock-frocks and jackets. She took a brown jacket and slipped into it, and Natsuki did the same with hers, eyes running shortly over the pile of boots under the rack.

Waiting until her guest was ready, the brunette opened the door and they both went outside.

The waxing moon was standing almost full in the cloudy sky, its soft, pale light illuminating the nightly scenery of a grassy yard enclosed by the ghostly silhouettes of shrubs and trees lightly swaying in the cold night breeze.

At a few metres distance ahead of them, there was a roofed well, and just as Lady Viola had assumed, Marianne was there, turning the well's crank, about to fill the buckets standing on the paved ground around its walls. The maid looked over to them as they stepped out of the door, smiling shortly before returning to her work.

And when Natsuki turned her head to the right, she realised that the manor was even larger than she had assumed when she had got off the coach: right-hand, partly obstructed by mighty trees, there was a second wing probably just as big as the main one.

But she had not much time to look around, for Lady Viola was already walking on, to the left, along the house wall and around the corner, back into the sandy court yard with the barns. There was light in the half open one opposite of the house, and while they crossed the yard at the side, Natsuki could catch a glimpse of Igor unharnessing the horses. The barn must have given shelter to other animals, too; now and then she could hear the lowing of cattle.

They left the yard and followed a trail leading along the barn's back and further on, over hard and already frozen soil and more and more grass. High above them, clouds drifted in front of the moon, blotting out the gentle light, and within a second, it became so dark around them that Natsuki could barely make out the diffuse black and grey-ish ground beneath her feet. Her steps becoming more insecure and slower, she fell slightly behind; Lady Viola in front of her was still going at the same quick pace as before.

It was only after a few metres that the lady noticed and stopped, waiting for her to catch up. And Natsuki, eyes fixed on her hostess, hurried to get to her, somewhat embarrassed of being so slow. She was just as step away from the other woman, when she suddenly tripped on the uneven ground and fell forward, bumping right into Lady Viola who swayed, almost losing balance herself, when Natsuki's hands gripped her waist and arm for support, and she nearly rammed her head against her shoulder.

Leaning heavily against her, clutching the fabric of her jacket, Natsuki felt the brunette's arms around her, holding her and pulling her up, with more strength than she had assumed the fragile looking woman would possess.

"Are you alright?" asked Lady Viola with worry in her gentle voice, still holding her tight.

"Ye-yea," stuttered Natsuki as the blood was rushing to her face, and she quickly straightened up and removed herself from the other's hold.

"The ground here is rather uneven, you have to lift your feet more," said the lady, coming closer, and Natsuki twitched in surprise when she suddenly took her hand. "Come, I will hold and catch you if you should trip again," she said merrily, and, despite the initial instinct to draw her hand back, the dark-haired woman closed her fingers around the other's as they were walking on, slower now. Lady Viola's hand was a little cold, but in no way did it feel unpleasant; it was soft, the grip tight, but not too tight - just about right.

They had not walked far, when it became gradually brighter, and from the darkness ahead of them emerged the silhouettes of bushes and trees only a few metres away, and also the distinctive shape of the outhouse.

Glancing up at the sky above, Natsuki saw the orange glowing disc of the moon which had come out from its hideaway behind the dark banks of clouds and was now casting its light down on Erthe again.

Reaching the outhouse, Lady Viola let go of her hand, asking her to go first. And so Natsuki went ahead, relieved that there was enough moonlight coming in through the small lights in the side walls to orient herself in the small cabin.

When she came out again, she found Lady Viola waiting at a few metres distance, back facing her, seemingly looking into the dark bushes around. The lady then took her turn and shortly later, they were walking back again, Lady Viola slightly ahead and Natsuki following, thankful that she had not taken her hand again, it would have been too awkward now.

They took the exact same way back as they had come, and soon they were standing in the dry room again, where Lady Viola hung her jacket back onto the rack next to the door and then asked for Natsuki's, which she hung on a clothesline in the back of the room.

Going over to the kitchen, they found Marianne sitting at the table, now busy peeling parsnip. She looked up as they entered, saying, "I just put the kettle on."

"Thank you." Lady Viola crossed the room with Natsuki in tow and went over to the counter top, where she picked up a jug and poured some of its water into a big, flat bowl, in which she was washing her hands afterwards, with a small piece of soap. She then disposed of the used water into one of the buckets standing on the floor next to the counter and poured in some fresh water for Natsuki.

After the dark-haired woman had washed her hands, Lady Viola gave her a towel out of rough linen she had taken from a rack at the wall and then went towards Marianne, saying, "We will be in the Blue Room."

The maid looked up and nodded. "Alright, I'll bring everything there then," said she and the lady gave her a nod.

Natsuki, in the meantime, was done with drying her hands and putting the towel back, whereupon she and Lady Viola left the kitchen again.

In the hall, she could see their luggage standing next to the entrance door, but just when Natsuki wanted to ask about it, Lady Viola lightly touched her arm, her ever present smile widening as she said, "Come, I will shew you to your room."

She didn't wait for a reply and went ahead with quick steps, towards the staircase, and Natsuki only caught up with her when they reached the stairs and climbed up to the gallery on the first floor.

The gallery - which was shaped like a 'U', partly enclosing the hall - as well as the first storey, they were both kept in the same vermilion tones as the hall, but here, patterned, mainly burgundy coloured carpets were laid out on the wooden floor. A long corridor in the middle of the 'U' and several doors at its sides were leading away from the gallery, and also there, the walls were decorated with oil paintings.

There was a small table with one row of drawers at the beginning of the corridor, a paraffin lamp and two candle lamps standing on its top. Lady Viola went to the table and removed the long, at the bottom bulbous and at the top tapered glass cylinder from the paraffin lamp's burner and turned up the lamp's wick so that it was slightly protruding. Getting a matchbox from out of one of the drawers, she lit the wick with a match which she laid on a small plate afterwards, and then carefully put the glass cylinder back onto the lamp.

Natsuki noticed by the traces her fingers had left on the cylinder as well as the socket of the lamp, that there was a thin layer of dust on them; a closer look at the two candle lamps shewed that they, too, were dusty - all these lamps had not been used in quite some time.

But she had not much time to think about it as Lady Viola was already indicating her to move on, and so she followed her down the corridor that took several turns, sometimes running through the middle of the house, sometimes leading along the outer walls, past many tall and narrow windows, and also up another flight of stairs; they must have went over into other wing of the mansion.

Eventually, their journey ended in front a broad oaken door just like the many others they had passed before and Lady Viola opened it, asking her to enter with that smile and almost childlike delight she had also sported earlier, in the hall.

And as Natsuki stepped into the room, she understood why it was called the 'Blue Room': its walls and the carpet on the stone floor were kept in cerulean and midnight blue shades, a welcome change to all the red.

The room was almost square and had two big windows which were directly opposite of the door and covered with indigo curtains. Fitted into the corner right from the door was a small masonry heater, and not far from it, standing at the wall there was a simple table with a washing bowl on top and a chair in front of it.

In the left half of the room, there stood a queen-size bed, the head of its ornate wooden frame aligned at the wall, its foot extending into the room, the big white pillows inviting to lie down, sink into them and pull the thick blanket up to one's nose. And behind the bed, at the house wall, Natsuki could see a low chest of drawers next to the windows.

Walking further into the room, her eyes turned left, to the wall adjacent to the corridor. A dark oaken chest with iron fittings was standing there, almost the size of a small sofa, large enough that a grown-up could climb into it and sit in there quite comfortably, like one would in a bathtub.

But what really caught her attention was not the chest - that was maybe a bit more exquisitely crafted than others but by far no unfamiliar sight - but the piece of tapestry hanging above of it. It was not as big as the ones she had seen in the entrance hall, not even one metre wide and less high, but it was surely the most beautiful piece of art she had ever set her eyes on, and drawn to it, she moved closer, only marginally noticing that Lady Viola was following her with the light.

The tapestry shewed a majestic, single wolf standing on a cliff rising high above a wintry scenery, overseeing fields of white and vast forests extending as far as the at times barren, at times snow-covered mountains at the horizon. And Natsuki was standing in front of it, her eyes running over the woven picture over and over again, taking in every little detail, marvelling at the brilliant colours, the pure white snow, the azure sky, the luscious dark green of the pine trees, the sandy brown and ochre of the rocks, and the silvery grey and white of the wolf's fur and the golden shimmer in its amber eyes.

It was only after a while that she suddenly became aware of the other woman standing close beside her again. Lady Viola was watching her attentively, a fascinated smile on her lips and a delighted sparkle in her crimson eyes.

Self-consciously, Natsuki glanced over to her and back to the tapestry again, the embarrassment more than evident by the red glow adorning her cheeks and ears. "It-It's beautiful," she mumbled eventually.

The brunette's smile widened a bit and she softly asked, "You really do take a special liking in those animals, do you not?"

"I... feel close to them," Natsuki answered slowly, charily.

The other's expression became more serious again, intense crimson eyes intensely studying her face and then meeting her own with a warmth and earnest that surprised the raven-haired woman. "We have something in common then," replied Lady Viola, just as quietly.

Natsuki felt how her face was turning into a hesitant, shy smile on its own accord, in return kindling the other's only further. Her lips slightly parting and revealing snow white teeth, the brown-haired woman lightly tilted her head, as if she wanted to say something, but just in that moment, a dull knock was heard from the door and both women abruptly turned their head, looking at the dark wooden panels.

"Come in," said Lady Viola after a moment of silence, and a few seconds later, the door was opened and Marianne entered the room, a jug in her hand and some towels hanging over her arm.

With a perplexed expression on her face, the elderly woman looked at the younger ones standing somewhat awkwardly in front of the chest and looking back to her.

"I'm bringing the water," she said after a moment, moving towards the table at her right. There, she placed the jug next to the bowl onto the table and hung the towels over the back of the chair, before she turned to them again, asking, "Do you want to make the bed now, or shall I come back later?"

Lady Viola shook her head. "No, let us make the bed now," said she and went around the bed, to the other side, where she put the kerosene lamp onto the chest of drawers.

In the meantime, Marianne had come over to Natsuki who was still standing a bit lost in front of the chest. The maid opened the chest, leaning its lid against the wall where it fit perfectly below the tapestry and took out one of the bed sheets that were kept inside.

She then stepped to the bed as close as possible, leaning over and giving the sheet to Lady Viola who was still on the other side and did half crawl onto the bed to receive it. And while the latter was unfolding the sheet, Marianne was picking up the blanket and the pillows and putting them into the open chest to have them out of the way.

The lady spread the linen sheet over the bed and started to tuck it under the mattress while Marianne did the same on her side.

Deciding to make herself useful, Natsuki took one of the pillows and a pillow case she had seen in the chest earlier. By the time she had slipped the case over the pillow, the others were finished with the sheet, too, and Marianne was already reaching for the second pillow while Lady Viola was coming back to their side of the bed.

"Will you help me with the blanket?" she asked Natsuki with a sweet smile.

Of course Natsuki would do that. "Sure."

Marianne, done with the pillow, then took her leave, saying she'd send Igor up with the luggage.

The two of them alone again, Lady Viola handed Natsuki the blanket, telling her to unfold it and put it on the bed for now, while she herself got the blanket case and turned it inside out. Natsuki watched slightly amused how she reached with her hands inside the case, her arms, head and upper body disappearing in the white cloth, presenting quite a comic sight as she was straightening up again, raising her hands that were gripping the blanket case's corners and wriggling a bit while pulling her head back out.

And the raven-haired woman was not able to suppress her smile when the other eventually looked at her again, with her bun slightly messed up and her arms wrapped in the gathered blanket case.

The other looked at her in curiosity for a moment before she followed and she started to smile until she was literally grinning. "Can you hand me the blanket?" she asked, and Natsuki hurried to do as she wished. handing her the blanket and helping her to slip the case over it.

Pulling the case off her arms and down over the blanket while the lady was holding both, Natsuki's hand lightly brushed over the other's, and a weird, tingly sensation shot through her arm, her cheeks suddenly feeling very warm. Glancing at Lady Viola and meeting her eyes, the brunette gave her a small smile, although that made Natsuki even more self-conscious than before and she found it hard looking at her.

Once again she was asking herself what was up with her, why she was so nervous for no apparent reason. It was absolutely not that she felt uncomfortable in the other's presence - the lady had to be one of the most amiable people Natsuki had ever met. It was... She didn't know what it was.

The two of them were quickly done with the blanket and Lady Viola came back to Natsuki's side, went over to the chest and closed it. Turning around, she leaned casually against it, bracing herself with her hands on the lid. Her warm crimson eyes fell on Natsuki again, and smiling she said, "All done."

Nervously brushing a raven strand out of her face, the other woman nodded, not really knowing what to say; words seemed to fail her perpetually this evening. And so it was again Lady Viola who continued the conversation, lightly remarking, "Now we only need Igor to bring your luggage up and it is all set."

She had barely finished the sentence when another knock from the door was heard. "Talk of the devil," she noted quietly with a grin and pushed herself off the chest, saying - louder now - "Come!"

A moment later, Igor, with Natsuki's bags in his hands, was standing in the room. "I'll just put your bags here, if that's okay," he said, walking to the foot of the bed.

"Oh, yes, of course, thank you," hurried the raven-haired woman to say, and Igor nodded, putting the bags down.

"Marianne also asked me to bring this box with soap," he continued, fishing a small box out of his jacket's pocket and placing it next to the bowl on the washing table. Turning to Lady viola, he then asked, "Do you require my help with anything?"

The lady shook her head. "No, thank you," she answered, "that would be all."

"Well then." Igor nodded and took his leave again.

When he was gone, Lady Viola turned to Natsuki, saying, "It will take a while until supper is ready. Freshen up a little and take some rest till then, I will send someone up to get you when it is time." She paused for a moment, looking as if a thought had just crossed her mind. "Do you need a nightgown? Or anything else?"

"No." Natsuki quickly shook her head, a blush creeping onto her face at that offer. "I'm carrying pretty much all my belongings with me," she said, motioning to her bags. "I have everything I need."

"I see...," said Lady Viola slowly. Her face brightening up a little, she urged, "But pray do not hesitate to ask if something comes up."

"I will," asseverated Natsuki her, "thank you very much." She paused and her expression grew a bit more serious, and worried. "I fear my words cannot properly express the gratitude I hold for you letting me stay here with you tonight, and it worries me more so as I don't know how to requite your kindness."

"Oh, do not say so!" exclaimed Lady Viola. "I am taking much pleasure in your stay here, and I like to think of your delightful mien alone as more than requiting. One might even say I should be the one to express my gratitude."

"Now you're exaggerating, Milady," mumbled Natsuki, heavily blushing.

A soft chuckle escaped the lady's lips. "Not as much as you might think," she then said quietly, her impassioned gaze resting on the other's face. "Any way," she continued, "do not worry, your presence is very much welcomed here." Her smile widened. "I would like to ask a favour of you though."

Giving her a curious look, Natsuki replied, "Ask then, and I shall answer."

"Call me Shizuru."

Natsuki stood baffled for a moment, surprised looking at her counterpart. This was... unexpected, to say the least. "I... I am honoured by your offer and will gladly do so," she answered eventually, "but in return, pray call me Natsuki."

"With pleasure," came Shizuru's warm reply, her bright smile again revealing a row of snow white teeth.

And Natsuki thought that she had the most beautiful teeth she had ever seen. Although looking more carefully, something about them seemed to be strange... But as soon as that thought had crossed her mind, it was gone again already, and Shizuru's melodic voice tore her out of her musings.

"I will leave now, so that you may freshen up," said the lady, and Natsuki nodded, following her as she went to the door. Shizuru opened it, turning to her guest once more before walking out. "Until later, Natsuki."

"Until later."

The lady closed the door behind her, and Natsuki kept standing where she was for a while, staring lost in thought at the dark wooden panels, a little smile on her lips that would not fade.

Eventually deciding to wash herself now, she turned around and went over to her bags at the foot of the bed. Kneeling down next to the duffel bag, she unravelled the knot of the rope cording it up, noticing that it was a bit loose - she probably just hadn't tied it firmly enough in the morning. Not thinking further about it, she opened the bag and took out a white, long-sleeved shirt, just like the one she was wearing now.

After stretching a bit from her crouch and laying it over the bed's foot board, her hands carefully dived into the bag's contents again, more or less blindly fumbling through the layers of cloth until she eventually felt the small wooden box she had been searching for under her fingers. It must have been slipped further down into the depths of the bag during the journey.

She put it shortly down on the ground, contemplating for a while, then searching the bag once more, bringing out a fresh pair of brales which were deposited on top of the shirt hanging over the foot board.

Regarding the dirtied leather pants she was wearing with a critical look, she shortly rummaged in the duffel bag again, taking out her best pair of dark grey flannel trousers and putting it to the rest of her garderobe.

Now that everything was laid out, she quickly got undressed, putting away her dirty clothes just as neatly as the clean ones. She took the small, wooden box and went with it to the washing table, where she placed it in front of the mirror.

Quickly, she washed herself with the water that had been prepared for her. Although the water had probably been fairly warm when Marianne had brought it, it had considerably cooled down in the meantime - but being used to wash with winter's icy cold water, Natsuki didn't mind too much.

And after drying herself with the towels, she opened the box and took out the alum crystal it contained, lightly brushing it under her armpits before carefully putting it back again.

By now having goosebumps from the cold, she hurried to get dressed again, the warmth bringing clothes eliciting a pleasant shiver as they hugged her skin.

She sat down on the freshly made bed, slightly sinking in into the soft feathers, and she thought that she might was well lie down for a while. So she kicked off her boots again and curled up on the blanket, with a content smile letting her eyes run over the wolf tapestry once more before she closed them. She really was blessed by Providence, who had turned today's misfortune around and brought her here.

* * *

Some time had passed when restrained knocking at the door woke her up from her slumber. "Ms Kruger?" she heard Igor call from the other side. "Supper is served."

Sitting up, Natsuki shouted, "I'm coming," maybe a bit too loud, and hastily jumped off the bed and got into her boots.

Checking her appearance in the mirror, she quickly straightened a few tousled strands of raven hair with her fingers and brushed the wrinkles out of her clothes. Not even a minute later, and she opened the door, finding Igor waiting a few steps away.

Formally dressed up in a black frock coat, he was now playing the butler's role as well. He had brought another lamp with him, and so Natsuki put hers out and left it in the room when they set off.

Igor led her all the way back, through the maze of corridors and into the entrance hall. Coming down the stairs, they turned left, where the elderly man opened a big double door.

Behind oaken wings lay the dining room, a great hall dominated by a long table on the window side, with its long-backed chairs providing seating for a few dozen people. Three beautiful crystal chandeliers, each smaller than the one in the entrance hall, hanging in row illuminated the room which was - just as supposedly most of the building - kept in hues of red. The floor was tiled with polished, light grey and ochre marble - at least it did look like marble, if it really was, Natsuki couldn't tell.

The smell of food was hanging in the air - at the head of the table, there was a soup tureen made of white porcelain with a stylised flower pattern, the rim of its lid gilded. On the seat right next to the head and almost in front of the tureen, there was a single place setting laid out on the white tablecloth, consisting of a dinner plate and a shallow soup bowl of the same decoration as the tureen, furthermore a silver spoon, a water goblet and a wine glass.

Igor pulled the chair out and indicated her to sit down. p> And Natsuki did as he wished, her eyes running over the lonesome table setting. "Is Lady Viola not coming?" she asked confused.

"Milady does not supper," he answered curtly. "Would you like wine to your meal?"

"Yes... yes, that would be nice," mumbled Natsuki absentmindedly, not being able to hide her disappointment. Had not Shizuru said they would meet again later?

Igor went to a long sideboard at the wall next to the door, where there were standing a few bottles of wine, and from where he brought a crystal wine decanter and filled her glass. He left the decanter at the table and then went back to the sideboard again to get a crystal carafe with water, pouring some into her goblet. The carafe, too, was placed into her arm's reach afterwards. Then, after taking a silver ladle and serving her a good portion from the stew that was in the tureen, he wished her a nice meal and excused himself, saying he would be back in a while.

All alone, Natsuki dismally looked around. The room was too big, too foreign, too lorn for her to feel comfortable; even though it was illuminated brightly, there was an intangible gloominess about it that was weighing on her.

She took the glass of wine, watching the dark red liquid whirl around before carefully taking a sip. It was heavy, sweet - it was like no other wine she had ever tasted. She took another sip, then put the glass down again, to take a sip of water from the goblet and then directed her attention to the stew.

She recognised the ingredients Marianne had prepared earlier, the potatoes, the parsnip, and then there were mushrooms and pieces of white meat. Rabbit, yes, there was no doubt about it. She took another spoonful of the viscid stew. In a way, it tasted familiar, and yet there was something strange, a strong aroma she could not discern. She was still pondering about it, when she heard the door to the dining room being opened again.

Looking up, she expected to find Igor again, but was instead joyously surprised to see Shizuru rushing inside. She, too, had changed and was now wearing a dark red, five flounced silk dress, that - in simple words - could only be described as breathtaking. Natsuki noticed that she had also put her hair back in order, and in her hand, she was holding an earthen mug.

"Oh, I am sorry!" Shizuru exclaimed while quickly coming towards her. "I should not have let you wait so long." She took her seat at the head of table, putting the steaming mug down in front of her, hand still clasped around it.

She was looking so distraught that Natsuki hurried to say, "Pray do not worry, it is alright." The raven-haired woman smiled. Shizuru's appearance had driven the gloominess that had been hanging over her away in an instance; the dining room suddenly seemed warm and and inviting

The brunette answered her smile the worried look falling off her. She took a small sip from the herbal infusion in her mug, and Natsuki followed her suit, taking another spoonful of the stew, lightly chewing. _Thyme? No, that was not it._

"Are you not hungry?" she asked then, looking at the brunette.

"I never eat that late in the evening," replied Shizuru vaguely, averting her gaze and taking another sip from her mug.

And Natsuki could not fight the impression that she was not speaking the truth, though for what reason she could not imagine. Studying the other's face she noticed that at least her cheeks were now more rosy than before, and some of the tiredness seemed to have fallen off her as well. She probably had lain down for a while, just like herself.

Crimson eyes met her own again, and now it was Natsuki who embarrassed broke the contact, concentrating on her meal. _Laurel?_

"Is it not good?" asked the brunette suddenly, her look all worried again, and Natsuki realised that her pondering must have shown on her face. "It is the juniper, is it not? Or the rosemary?" Shizuru continued distraught. "Marianne always uses too much of it."

Natsuki laughed. That was it. "No, the stew is fine, it tastes good, really," she said.

"Really?" asked the other, still a bit worried.

"Really," repeated the raven-haired woman and continued eating, not so much as to prove her words but because she was hungry and it _did_ taste good, and more so now that she knew what the unfamiliar taste was.

After the first hunger was satisfied, Natsuki's thoughts came back to something she had been wondering about for quite some time now. "Is it just the three of you who are living here?", she asked, for all evening she had seen no living soul apart from Shizuru and the two servants.

"Yes." Shizuru gave her an enquiring look, surprised at the question.

Natsuki nodded slowly. "It must be hard sometimes, taking care of the big estate all alone."

"We manage," answered the brunette quietly. "In summer, Old Pete often comes over to help, or we get workers from other farms if necessary." She drank from her tea, wrapping her hands around the mug as she put it down again, as if to warm them.

It was only then that Natsuki noticed that her fingernails were cut very short, just like her own. The women of the court filed their nails, shaped and polished them; they did not have to concern themselves with labour as the lower classes.

And it was like everything was falling into place, the oddities of the past hours starting to make sense - the enormous but empty house and the lack of a proper amount of servants to take care thereof, the noble wine and the simple meal served on gold rimmed plates - the apparent prosperity of this place was only the remnant of a wealth bygone.

Times were not easy and the vagaries of Fortune made no difference between rich and poor; impoverishment was no uncommon phenomenon. And it did not surprise her that Shizuru was trying to uphold a certain image to the outward world, pride and dignity were always among the last things that one lost.

She watched Shizuru's face; the other woman was lost in thought staring into her mug, a certain air of melancholy around her. _She must be lonely,_ Natsuki suddenly thought, _spending her days in this gloomy masonry, the sole company two elderly servants._

They both remained silent while Natsuki finished her stew. As she put her spoon back into the empty bowl, Shizuru looked at her, asking, "Do you want more?"

Natsuki nodded, but declined when the other was about to get up. "I will help myself."

The brunette paused. "As you wish," she said then, sitting down again.

And Natsuki helped herself to second serving, embarrassed hoping that she had not offended her by her conduct. But in that very moment, it just had not seemed right to be served by her; she really did not want to be of any trouble.

Still worrying about her behaviour, the raven-haired woman slowly continued to eat, when all of a sudden Shizuru asked, "You are from Briagha?"

Natsuki looked at her. "Yea," she said surprised, wondering how the brunette knew. Was it that common for the townsfolk of Briagha to travel these roads?

"And you are a soldier?"

This time, the soup on her spoon was slowly dripping back into the bowl as Natsuki was looking at the other in puzzlement.

Shizuru laughed softly. "I am sorry, it is just that I think I have seen the emblem of the Tyrgrainnean Military Academy in Briagha embroidered on your jacket. Am I not right?"

The raven-haired woman was simply staring at her in bafflement for a few more seconds before she slowly answered, "You are right, I graduated from the academy this year. But I did not enlist."

"Oh." Now it was Shizuru's turn to look at the other in surprise. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then decided against it.

And Natsuki was thankful that she did not pursue the matter any further, it was not something she was very keen to talk about this moment.

They fell silent again after that, until Natsuki had eaten all her stew and drunk all her wine, and also Shizuru had emptied her mug. Full and content, Natsuki was leaning back in her chair, and Shizuru asked, "Will you come over to the sitting room with me and tell me the tidings of the city?"

Natsuki nodded. Even though she felt terribly sleepy, she wanted to go with Shizuru - not because she felt obliged to do so, but because the lady had sparked her interest and curiosity in many ways; she wanted to become further acquainted with her.

They both got up from their chairs, and Shizuru went on ahead to the door. Following her, Natsuki felt dizzy all of a sudden and had trouble to walk straight; she was swaying so much, that the brunette, who had already been waiting at the door, came rushing back to her.

"Are you not feeling well?" she asked with candid worry in her voice.

"I... I think I drank too much of the wine," answered Natsuki, taking a deep breath. "I am fine," she added when the wave of dizziness subsided again.

Shizuru nodded, but her look was still full of care, and she stayed very close and kept an eye on her as she led her back through the entrance hall and into the room abut the dining room.

The sitting room must have been just as big as the dining room, but it was devoid of the gloomy emptiness Natsuki had felt in the latter. It was warm, cozy instead, to which the fireplace at the left wall contributed to a great degree. The floor was tiled with sandstone, just like the entrance hall, and a few comfy looking wing chairs were placed in a crescent around the fireside. Shelves with countless books were standing at the walls, in safe distance to the fire, and groups of small tables and chairs to sit down and read or play cards.

Shizuru made her sit down in one of the wing chairs and looked at her, pondering. "I would have liked to offer you another glass of wine, but that would probably not be such a good idea."

"No," laughed Natsuki, "better not." She paused. "But maybe you could bring me cup of tea, like the one you had?"

"Tea?" Shizuru asked surprised.

The other nodded. "Tea."

"Alright," said Shizuru with a smile. "I will be back in no time with a cup of tea for you." And with that, she rushed out of the room again.

Alone, Natsuki leaned back in her wing chair, watching the play of the flames in the fireplace, crackling as they danced and lapped at the logs. She did not know why, but she suddenly felt terribly tired again; her limbs were heavy as lead and her eyes on the verge of closing. She was desperately trying to stay awake, but she must have shortly fallen asleep nonetheless, for she startled when the door was opened and Shizuru came back inside. She was bringing two mugs, of which she gave one to Natsuki, and then sat down in the chair next to her.

The raven-haired woman thankful received the mug and took a careful sip of the steaming tea. Its aroma was reviving and the taste sweet, not only of fruits or flowers - Shizuru must have added a bit of honey, too.

"Are you coming directly from Briagha?" asked Shizuru, sipping her tea as well.

Natsuki nodded. "Yea."

"The Gardens are always so beautiful around this time of year. Do you go there sometimes?"

"The Gardens? Yes, quite often actually, when I have the time." She paused. "You have been there?"

The brunette nodded and smiled. "I spent part of my childhood in Briagha," she explained, "but it has been almost two years now since I have last been there."

"I see," mumbled Natsuki. So that was why she knew the emblem of the academy so well... "Two years ago? That was the year the Court Opera burnt down, wasn't it?"

"Yes, we arrived only a few days after the fire. The whole area was just rubbles and ashes, it looked all so horribly desolate... I read in the paper that the opera was rebuilt?"

"Yea, it opened again in summer..." Natsuki took another sip from her tea. "Have you been there? The old opera house, I mean?"

"No." Shizuru shook her head. "Sadly, I never had the opportunity. Have you?"

"Yea... My aunt took me there several times, saying it would be of advantage for my education." The raven-haired woman grimaced and the other laughed.

"I do envy you though," she said, falling silent again afterwards.

Natsuki slowly sipped her tea, pondering before she asked, "You are not from Tyrgrainne, are you?"

Shizuru gave her a surprised look, then started to smile. "But I am," she objected, her smile widening. "I was born here." There was a pause before she admitted, "My family is from Aithraea, though... Why do you ask?"

Natsuki vaguely tilted her head. "At times, there is a very subtle foreign accent to your Anglian that made me wonder."

The brunette nodded, understanding. "Even though I grew up here, Ethran was the first language I learnt... It is obviously still shining through."

"Not that obviously," eased Natsuki her. "Great part of my assumption was based on the fact that I have never heard of a noble house of the name Viola before," she admitted.

"I see."

"Have you ever been to Aithraea?"

"Yes, I spent a part of my life there."

"Pray tell me about it," asked the dark-haired woman. Aithraea was a land in the south she knew not too much about. Of course, there were the - primarily geographic - facts she had learnt at the academy at one time, but all that information had only been sparse and peripheral.

"What do you want to know?"

"I... I don't know." Natsuki smiled apologetically. "It is very different from Tyrgrainne, isn't it?"

The brunette thought for a moment, before she slowly said, "In many ways, yes, but then again also not." She lightly leaned back in her chair, sipping from her tea, before she started to speak again.

And Natsuki was listening to her melodic voice, following as her words took her to the beautiful lands of Aithraea, across the steep mountains and cleft valleys in the north, over grass-grown hills and plains, trough the most luscious of woods, over vast fields, through wine yards and olive groves, past sand and white coloured buildings till they reached the rocky cliffs and sandy beaches in the south.

"But what I miss most are the oranges, you just cannot get decent oranges here..." Shizuru's voice had become more and more nostalgic while talking, and with longing, she continued, "And there is nothing like being in the orange orchards around Phaessa in the evening hours, when the last rays of the sun are breaking through the canopies of leaves, one last time caressing the oranges so sweet and still warm from the heat of the day, and you can just pick them and -" She suddenly stopped in mid sentence, and it was the abrupt pause that stirred Natsuki from her drifting into slumber.

It took the brunette several seconds before she eventually went on. "You can just pick them, and cut them in half and drink the juice." Her words were hesitant and unsure, and a part of Natsuki was thinking that something about that sentence was so very weird and seemingly out of place.

She found Shizuru looking at her, expectant and also somewhat worried, and something in Natsuki realised that she must have posed a question which she had missed.

"Do you like oranges?" the lady repeated, but her voice seemed strangely muffled, as if it was coming from far away.

Natsuki wanted to answer but found herself unable to speak; it was as if all strength had suddenly been drained off her and she had lost control of her muscles and senses. Her vision started to blur and the empty mug slipped from her slack hands, crashing onto the floor, the sound strangely dull as it reached her ears.

_"Would you like wine?" - "It is the juniper." - "Is it not good?" - "Milady does not supper." - "Do you want more?"_ Voices were echoing through her mind, ghastly and hollow, faces distorting to grotesque masks, and in a stroke of consciousness she registered that she had been drugged, poisoned.

She thought she heard someone calling her name, and then Shizuru was leaning over her, the crimson eyes so very close. She tried to lift her arm and push her away, but all sense of feeling had left her body and she was sinking into endless darkness.

* * *

Natsuki: You really have astonishing nightsight.

Shizuru: I eat lots of rabbits.

Natsuki: ... What?

Shizuru: Carrots! I meant carrots!

* * *

Putting this down, I realised that I will never be able to write for magazines about fashion or home decoration. Next chapter, they're all wearing potato sacks and live in caves, I swear!


	3. Chapter 3

*sigh* This update took me again much longer than I had planned.

I want to say thank you for your kind reviews, and also apologise for the lack of replies from my side. I just never really know what to say. Which sounds totally lame but is the sad truth. Erm... I'll be trying to work on that >.> Because your reviews make me happy, really. I'm grinning like the stupid idiot that I am whenever I get one.

Anyway, you want answers. I hope this chapter will provide them, in a satisfactory way. *gulps*

* * *

The flames were blazing high, devouring all that was within reach, their hot and fiery breath blowing into her face, pricking her skin, and in her nostrils, the heavy scent of blood and burnt flesh.

She was standing on the market square again, and the air was filled with the anguished screams and yells of the people around her, the raucous and erratic barking of dogs and shrill neighing of horses.

The panicked crowd scattered and something came speeding towards her, almost too fast for her eyes to see. It smashed into her, throwing her to the ground, looming over her, a dark shadow, with gleaming eyes and razor sharp teeth.

Then, there was only the high-pitched scream of a little girl, and Natsuki eventually broke free from the grip of nightmare, bolting upright, trembling, clothes clinging to her sweaty skin. Her breath came in ragged gasps and her heart achingly hammered against her ribs.

With wild eyes, she looked around the room, only slowly finding her way back into reality, the terrible scream still ringing in her ears.

The paraffin lamp on the chest of drawers was still burning, the soft glow illuminating a room foreign, yet not unknown.

Memories came flooding back - images flashing by - the stagecoach, the accident, Shizuru, the manor, Shizuru, the fireside, flames, Shizuru, Shizuru, bending over her, her teeth, her teeth...

_Vampyre._

The word manifested in her mind, and with it a knowledge - intangible, like the dream that kept haunting her but which she could never reach when awake. But she knew, with a subconscious certainty that could not be shaken - not here, not now.

Her hand instinctively reached for her neck, but she could feel nothing abnormal. She did not know what they had done to her after she had lost consciousness, but she seemed to be unharmed, untouched.

Her eyes moved to the window, it was still dark outside. Or was it again? How long had she been passed out? She did not know.

A thought occurred to her and she got out of the bed and moved over to the door, carefully trying the handle - the door was unlocked and opened without making a sound.

Although hoped for, this was unexpected, and still surprised, she opened the door wide enough for her to peer out into the dark corridor - no one there.

Soundlessly, she closed the door in front of her again, relieved and full of hope.

Why the door was unlocked was a mystery to her - did they expect her to still be unconscious? Was locking her up unnecessary? Or did they simply forget?

But no, there was no time to think about that now, she would thankfully take the given situation as it was and just get away from here as fast as possible.

With that, she went over to the holdall still standing on the ground next to the bed. Kneeling down, she opened it, her hands quickly searched through the layers of clothes, pausing... Her sword! It was gone!

She searched again, frantically, but to no avail - her sword was gone, they had taken it from her.

Her brows narrowed, in anger and also in frustration. The loose knot on her duffle bag, the position of the box - oh why hadn't she paid more attention to it? They had searched her belongings, already before bringing them up to her room.

Immobile, Natsuki was crouching on the floor, for long seconds not knowing what to do. The loss of her sword had thrown her plans into disarray. What was she to do without her weapon?

Deflated, she slowly stood up, her eyes roaming the room, searching for something that could be of use to her. They fell on the fireplace tools next to the masonry heater, and with quick steps she crossed the distance and took the fire poker. The grip fit nicely in her hand, and swinging the poker testingly, she noted with content that it was well balanced. It was only a poor replacement for her sword, but still a weapon to be taken serious. She would be able to bat her way out of here with it, should it be necessary.

With new found confidence, she quickly started to pack her things - once she had left the room, there was no coming back, and she would definitely not leave her belongings behind - if she could avoid it - and especially not her father's sword. She had to get it back somehow, as well as her jacket that was still downstairs in the dry room.

Her things gathered and her mind set, she shouldered the duffle bag, took the holdall with the left, the poker into her right, and... noticed she had no hand free to carry the lamp.

The thought of having to move through this dark mansion without a light to guide her troubled Natsuki, but then again, carrying a light in the dark was like sending ahead a herald to announce one's soon arrival. And so, after a moment's reflection, she decided to go without the lamp, hoping she would not regret it later.

Quietly, she slipped out of the room, and once in the corridor, she closed her eyes to make them adjust to the dark faster. Her ears nervously listened for any sounds around her, but the only thing she could hear was the pounding of her heart. Opening her eyes again, she moved on slowly, carefully, trying to remember which way Shizuru and Igor had led her before.

She had been stumbling half blindly through the darkness for a short while when she thought she heard music coming from somewhere, the distinctive play of a pianoforte.

It had not been her intention to follow the sound, but as it turned out, the further she walked on, the louder the music became, its melody clearly reaching her ears. The piece was fast and wild, like a raging storm, yet always harmonic, carried by a theme of melancholic beauty. And Natsuki found herself slowing down until she was standing rooted to the ground, enchanted and oblivious of everything listening to the music.

Some time passed before she was able to tear herself out of her enraptured state again, inwardly cursing. She was a captive on the run, not the audience of a recital, damn it!

And so she hurried on, relieved as she reached the corridor with the tall windows - she had been here before, she was on the right way. The moonlight was coming in through the window panes, and at least here, on this passage, she could walk unhindered and at fast speed.

Way too soon had she to enter darkness again, but this time, it was less sombre than before; she knew it would not be long now until she would reach the entrance hall.

She had to be close to the gallery already when she suddenly froze on the spot. From ahead, voices were reaching her ears as a soft murmur, drawing nearer - someone was coming her way!

Natsuki turned, hurrying back as fast as she could without making any sound, desperately searching for a place to hide.

* * *

Shizuru looked nervously at her guest, all too aware of her almost lapse.

She did not know what was up with her, she had been too careless the whole evening already, talking too much, giving away more than she usually would, and now she had almost slipped.

_How foolish! What human would bite into in an orange and suck it dry?_

Troubled studying the raven-haired's face, the worry about her own mistake was receding. Natsuki seemed sleepy, having trouble to stay awake, and her gaze veiled, as if she was looking at something distant and her thoughts were far away, too. And now she did not answer to her question; the brunette was not even sure if she had heard her at all.

As the other turned her head and looked at her, Shizuru leaned a bit forward, repeating her question. "Do you like oranges?" She tried to smile.

Natsuki's lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to answer, but no words came out. Her gaze was becoming veiled again, eyes closing, and with horror, Shizuru witnessed how the raven-haired woman slumped in her chair, the mug slipping from her hands and falling onto the stone floor where it shattered into large pieces.

"Natsuki?!" Alarmed, the brunette jumped out of her chair and rushed over to her guest,

"Natsuki?" She leaned over her, her hand reaching out to lightly nudge her shoulder.

Emerald eyes half opened, dazed looking at her, or at least it seemed so. Her expression becoming strained, Natsuki lifted her arm as if trying to push her away but then sank back again, her eyes closing as the head dropped and she lost consciousness.

Agitated, Shizuru leaned closer, now shaking the other's shoulder. "Natsuki?"

There was no reaction from the raven-haired woman, and Shizuru was slowly but surely panicking. She did not know what was had happened, and she did not know what to do.

Was Natsuki sick? She had seemed hale and hearty before. Maybe a bit tired, but nothing to give reason for worry.

Shizuru brushed strands of raven hair behind a delicately shaped ear and over a broad shoulder, baring a creamy white neck.

Trembling fingers moved over silky skin, feeling for the jugular vein. The pulse was slow, but strong.

Her breathing appeared to be fairly normal, too, the chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The cheeks were rosy and her features so soft and relaxed - Natsuki looked as if she was just sleeping.

Crimson eyes fell upon slightly parted lips, pink and moist, from the small mouth wandering to the snub nose, the long dark eye lashes, and with quickening heartbeat, Shizuru suddenly became fully aware of the woman lying unconscious beneath her.

The fingers still at the other's neck slowly recoiled as Shizuru leaned further in, bracing her hands on the chair's arms.

The blood was rushing through her veins, roaring in her ears, as a deep yearning was surging up inside her. She was so close now, she could feel the radiating warmth of the other's body, and she slowly shut her eyes, her nose finding the velvety skin of Natsuki's neck, breathing her in.

The raven-haired woman's scent was sweet, fresh, just like the mountain stream's water in early spring, when it carried the thawing snow down to the valley.

Shizuru's fingers bore into the soft cushion of the chair's arms as she was struggling to calm her racing heart and fight back her instincts, clenching her teeth so hard that it hurt.

In one desperate move, she pushed herself away from the chair, turned, and literally ran out of the room.

As the door fell shut behind her, Shizuru sank heavily against the wall, her head reeling and her whole body trembling as if she had been running for miles.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, but the image of the other woman kept flashing through her mind, tantalising, haunting.

Rage and despair were welling up inside her, a helpless agony induced by the fetters of her kind, and the frustration of her own lack of control. She should have never let it come that far.

She stood there propped against the wall for a while, and when her thoughts cleared, the torrent of her ire took a new course.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, the two elderly people were sitting round table and let the day, now that all work was done, end in quite the usual manner - Marianne knitting and Igor reading yesterday's paper - when all of a sudden, the door burst open and they both startled, Marianne almost dropping a needle.

Shizuru came whirling inside, all too ready to unleash her fury upon them. "What have you done?!" she yelled. "What have you done to her?! Tell me!"

Completely stunned, the other's were plainly looking at her. She did not wait for an answer, however, but strode towards the other end of the kitchen table, where she had spotted the tureen.

Opening the lid, she reached for the ladle, but before she could inspect the remains of the stew, Igor was already beside her, drawing the ladle gently but resolute out of her hand.

"Don't," he said, putting the ladle back and closing the lid again.

"What did you put in?!" demanded the brunette to know, her voice still raised.

"Morphia," came the quiet answer.

"Why?! Why would you do that?!"

Igor looked nervously over to his wife before hesitantly saying, "We... we think that... that Miss Kruger might have come here on the intent to harm you."

"What?!" exclaimed Shizuru dumbfounded. "Come here?! We brought her here!" She shook her head in disbelief. "We only met because her coach had an accident!"

"Our encounter might not be as coincidental as it seemed on first glance."

Shizuru was just looking at him unbelievingly, her anger not in the least diminished.

"She was hiding a sword in her bag," added the elderly man.

"So? Why not? She is a soldier, why should she not have a sword?" The brunette was still far from being convinced.

"Who would carry a sword in their bag, unless they have something to hide?" he reasoned calmly, like one would with an irrational child.

Shizuru shrugged. "She will have reasons of her own. Why would she want to harm me? We never met before today. I would remember." She suddenly became unsure as those words spoken on impulse sank in and the others - as if on cue - exchanged glances once more.

Now Marianne got up, too, and came round the table, softly taking Shizuru's hand in her own. Her gentle brown eyes were carefully searching the young one's face as she said quietly, "She was there, on that day," not missing the tiniest change of mien.

Shizuru was becoming more and more uncertain, and fraught with confusion and doubt, she looked from one to the other in dire need of assertion.

"I am certain that I recognise her, despite the time passed," said Marianne.

"You think she has come here to retaliate upon me?" The thoughts were whirling in Shizuru's head. "She... she did not seem like... she is not - _cannot..._ I - I have been talking to her, she was... she was just... _nice._" The last word merely a whisper, her voice broke off in helpless confusion.

Marianne's thumb was lightly stroking her hand. "There is still the chance that we err and do her wrong," she said, although she did not sound as if she was convinced of her own words.

Shizuru slightly shook her head, not knowing what to think anymore. But what affected and hurt her most, was the betrayal of the two. "Why did you not tell me?" she voiced. "Why are you hiding things from me again? I am not a little child anymore."

"You're right, we shouldn't have left you in the dark," admitted Igor guiltily. "I... I didn't want to tell you anything because we cannot be perfectly sure, and you seemed to have taken a liking in her so quickly. I thought it would have been best if she had just gone to bed early and slept soundly through the night and then left again in the morning. No one would have got hurt this way." He paused. "I was wrong."

"And now? What do we do now?" asked Shizuru, at a loss. "What do we tell her when she awakes again?"

"That... she has fallen asleep?" tried Igor.

Shizuru let out a snort. "She is not stupid. She knows that she did not simply fell asleep."

"You could try and convince her?" he suggested, too late realising that he just made another mistake when crimson eyes flashed at him.

"Where is she now?" intervened Marianne quickly. "Still in the parlour?"

"Yes," confirmed Shizuru, quietly adding, "We should at least bring her back into her room." She looked at Igor. "Help me, will you?"

Igor nodded, and so the two left the kitchen.

* * *

When Igor returned later, he found Marianne sitting at the table again, but she was lost in thought, her knitting lying neglected in front of her, and she only seemed to notice his presence after a few seconds.

She looked at him inquiringly then, and he said, "We brought her back into her room and laid her down. She's sleeping alright."

"And Shizuru?"

"In the music room."

Marianne nodded, looking at her knitting again. "What if we have made a terrible mistake?" she whispered soundlessly.

There was a long pause before Igor spoke again. "We did the right thing," he said, slowly stepping closer. "We cannot afford to take any risks."

"That is true..." She turned her sorrowful gaze to him as he sat down next to her. "Oh, I wish it wasn't so, but there is no doubt it is her... She looks exactly like her mother now..." Her voice trailed off and she turned her head, her eyes blankly looking into the distance again. "Shizuru knows, doesn't she? She knows we didn't tell her everything...," Marianne continued, deeply troubled, and let out a sigh. "It is so hard to decide which to tell and which not."

Igor, who had until then listened silently to her monologue, gently laid his arm around her and pulled her close. "Yes, but it always was," he said, "and yet we have managed all these years, and we will tomorrow also... And maybe one day, it won't be necessary to guard her from the past anymore."

Marianne didn't answer, she just leaned her head against his chest, and so they sat in silence, each in their thoughts travelling back into a past unfriendly and dark.

* * *

After her fingers had played the last notes, Shizuru remained slightly bent over the pianoforte for a few seconds, then slowly straightened up again.

Wondering how long she had been playing, she turned her gaze to the tall windows to her left. The curtains were open, and behind the window pane lay only darkness; the night could not have advanced further than the very first hours of morning.

Shivering, she rubbed her slightly stiff hands together, only now realising how cold it was in the room. It was no wonder the last pieces had not come to her as easily as usual, she thought, regretting that she had not put some fresh twigs into the heater earlier. Now it was too late; she would probably leave soon anyway.

She got up and walked over to the window, leaning against the frame as she looked outside, down at the court yard below.

The wind had become more fierce in the last hours, and the trees were swaying as it blew harshly through them, taking their bleak leaves with it, whirling them around wildly, high up before letting them fall down, only to catch them anew and start all over again. Clouds were drifting fast in the sky, alternately covering and uncovering the moon in short intervals, and in this turning, light and shadow were engaged in a bizarre and ghostly dance on the grass below.

This stormy night so full of beauty, wild and unbound, it was like a perfect reflection of her own inner unrest and disquiet. And yet it was calming, soothing, turning confusion and anger into tranquil melancholy. And she could just stand here for a while, not having to think about a past she had no remembrance of, just watching the autumn leaves as they were helplessly whirled around, falling endlessly, never touching the ground.

Shizuru heard the door being opened behind her, at first thinking it was Igor or Marianne, but the vague reflection she could see in the window belonged to someone else.

She turned, facing her guest who had more or less burst into the room and was now standing there, loaden with her luggage and in one hand holding a fire stoker. It all seemed suddenly so grotesque that Shizuru would have laughed, had it not been for the wild and hounded look in those emerald eyes.

* * *

The door fell close behind her and Natsuki stared at Shizuru in shock, realising that she had just come out of the frying pan into the fire, walking straight into the lion's den.

She regained her composure very quickly though, slowly letting her bags glide to the ground, all the time watching Shizuru carefully. _There will be no lamb tonight,_ she thought grimly, tightening the grip on her makeshift weapon.

"Stay where you are!" she barked, menacingly pointing the stoker at Shizuru who was coming closer, walking from the window to the piano.

But even though the vampyre did halt at her command, she did not seem to be very frightened of her. "You're awake again," she noted quietly, her voice uncertain. There was a pause, as if she was waiting for Natsuki to answer, but the latter just kept watching her warily. "Why don't you put the stoker down?" the brunette tried then.

"Never," growled Natsuki, raising it again as the vampyre was making another step towards her. "Stay back!"

"Natsuki...," Shizuru started anew, but the raven-haired woman cut her off.

"Don't you ever speak my name again as if we were friends!"

Astonied, the brunette stared at her. "I pray you, listen to me, let me explain-"

"Listen?! To your lies?! I know what you are, vampyre!" Lashing out, her words seemed to hurt Shizuru more than any weapon could have.

A shadow flitted across the brunette's distressed face, and her voice was strained as she almost whisperingly adjured, "I never meant you any harm, pray believe me."

"Believe you?!" hollered Natsuki. "After what you have done to me?!"

"It- it was a misunderstanding."

"I BEG YOUR PARDON?!" She could not believe it. "You drug me, you rob me and call it A MISUNDERSTANDING?!"

Too late she realised that she had got carried away in her anger and raised her voice far too much. She had barely finished the last sentence when the door opened again and Igor came rushing in.

With one glance, he had judged the situation and was charging at her.

"Don't," came Shizuru's anxious plea, but even if did reach Igor in time and made him hesitate, it was too late now.

The die was cast and the point of no return crossed. Natsuki was already swinging her stoker at the grey haired man, striking with full force.

She missed.

At last moment, Igor had slid back and evaded the fatal blow. And while she was still in the momentum of her strike, he was already jumping forward again, with one hand gripping her wrist so hard that she thought it would break, twisting it until she let go of her weapon with a pained cry.

He drew her arm on her back, trying to force her upper body down, but as the floor was coming closer, her reflexes took control and she rolled forward over her free shoulder.

And Igor, who had already had trouble holding her before, let go of her in surprise.

Natsuki's freedom was short-lived, though, for almost immediately after she had got up again, someone was gripping her from behind, the body too small to be Igor's. It was Shizuru, whose arms were closing around her, taking her into a bear hug.

And she didn't know why, but for the shortest of moments, a fleeting tranquility came over her, and she thought how easy it would be to quit struggling and just give in.

What a folly! As if she ever would!

Turning wildly in Shizuru's hold, she tried to free her arms and shove her elbows back, at the same time kicking behind with her legs. Unable to bring her under her control, the lighter woman was dragged along in her wake, and soon had to let go as Natsuki's elbow connected with her ribs.

And so, the raven-haired woman broke free, but losing balance in the course of it, she tripped and was falling, the piano in her way coming closer and closer.

The instrument gave a disharmonious sound as her head knocked against it, and then there was a white flash between her eyes and the world sank into darkness once again.

* * *

In shock, Shizuru looked at Natsuki's collapsed figure for a moment, then rushed over, kneeling down beside her.

"She was attacking you!" uttered Igor hoarsely, following her.

The brunette slowly shook her head. "No," she answered quietly, brushing raven tresses out of a pale face. "I think she just wanted to get away from here... She was scared." She fell silent when she noticed the dark red blotch amidst the hair above Natsuki's forehead.

Disquieted, Shizuru parted the sticky, wet strands, taking a closer look at the wound. The area around was swollen, but the injury itself did not seem to be too grave after all, it was only bleeding a little, the blood already clotting. Despite all her bad luck, the other woman was still lucky to not have injured herself more severely.

"She will be alright," murmured Shizuru, getting up again. "Help me bring her back into her room."

But Igor made no move to follow her request. "What about you?" he asked worriedly. "She hit you, didn't she?"

"I'm fine," she lied, not wanting to admit how much it hurt.

The elderly man was not convinced by her words. "Let Marianne take a look at it, will you?"

She nodded, although she thought it unnecessary. She knew that her ribs were not broken, only heavily bruised. She was fine.

* * *

When Natsuki woke up again, she felt water trickling over her face; someone was wiping her forehead with a wet cloth. She slowly opened her eyes and suddenly flinched back when her vision cleared and she realised that it was no one but the darned vampyre tending to her.

Panicking, her only thought was to get away from her as quickly as possible. She sat up abruptly, crawling, crabbing backwards, away, away, until there was suddenly no more bed underneath her, and with a surprised cry, she fell and landed on the floor. Luckily, the impact of the fall was padded by the thick blanket she was still entangled in.

As she looked up again, she found Shizuru half leaning over the bed, propped up on her hands, the crimson eyes watching her concerned. "Are you alright?"

Frantically, Natsuki freed herself from the blanket and crept into the farthest corner, defined by wall and chest of drawers. "Stay away!" she shouted, when Shizuru pushed herself back off the bed again and was about to walk around to her side.

The brunette complied to her request and remained where she was, and using the chest of drawers for support, Natsuki quickly pulled herself up, clinging to the piece of furniture as a wave of dizziness swept over her.

Desperately, the raven-haired woman looked around, searching for something to use as a weapon, _anything_ - but there was nothing.

Nothing but the burning kerosene lamp standing on the commode, only an arm's reach away.

Natsuki took the lamp and pulled off the hot glass tube, slightly burning her fingers in the course, almost letting the cylinder drop before she managed to safely put it down on the commode.

Casting a threatening glance at Shizuru, who had had the nerve to come closer in the meantime, she held the lamp towards the bed. "Stay away from me or I'll burn everything down!"

As if she had been hit, the brunette froze on the spot at her gesture, disconcerted and visibly struggling to regain composure. Painfully slow, the seconds passed before Shizuru spoke, her voice slightly trembling. "Do you think it wise to make such a threat? Would you not die in the flames as well?"

"I'd rather go up in flames than die at the fangs of your kind!" Natsuki exclaimed hoarsely, trying to ignore the shaking of her hand.

Shizuru's face hardened, her expression blanking, as if she was shielding herself, and she slowly retreated. "You may put the lamp down, for I will leave now," she said quietly. "In one of the commode's drawers, you will find a key. Lock the door with it, if it will make you feel safer. Igor will pick you up in the morning and bring you to Andoire."

"Why wait till morning? Why can't I leave right now?!" defied Natsuki as the other was at the door.

"Now?" Shizuru cast her a bewildered look. "It is safer during the day," she then simply said and left the room.

The door fell close behind her and Natsuki was all alone again. And suddenly, she noticed just how much her whole body was trembling; she felt so weak that it was a wonder her legs didn't give away.

With shaking fingers, she placed the lamp onto the chest of drawers, putting the glass cylinder back on. It was pure luck the flame had not died while it had been unprotected from draught.

Natsuki sat weakly down on the bed then, fearing she would just collapse if she kept standing. Several minutes passed before she thought she could get up again. She did not want to think about what might be should Shizuru decide to come back again - she would not be able to hold anything against her, the earlier confrontation had taken the last remnants of her strength.

Eventually searching the drawers of the commode, Natsuki indeed found a key, just as Shizuru had said. She locked the door with it, but she did not feel much safer afterwards.

Why would they give her a key to lock herself in? It had to be a trick. A chill ran down her spine as foreboding crept over her, and quickly, she knelt down, peering under the bed.

No one there.

Her heart beating wildly, she shot up again and hurried over to the large chest beneath the wolf tapestry, opening the lid. It just contained more bed linen. She lifted the topmost layers, but there was nothing but cloth. Relieved, she closed the chest. She was alone in the room, no one would be able to enter.

_Unless they had a second key..._ Her eyes moved warily to the door again. She would never feel safe until she had got away from here. But here she was, still a prisoner - she even locked herself up.

A hysterical laugh escaped Natsuki's lips. They would never let her go.

Retreating to the bed, she sat down again. Her body battered, her head throbbing with pain, she just wanted to curl up and sleep. But sleep she must not. She had to stay awake, stay vigilant and wait for the pale light of morrow.

The day was her only hope.

* * *

Natsuki: Shizuru?

Shizuru: Hm?

Natsuki: Umm... I heard that vampyres could take the shape of wolves...?

Shizuru: ... So?

Natsuki: Well... Can you?

Shizuru: No.

Natsuki: Damn.


	4. Chapter 4

All fillers no killers!

...just a lil bit to get things in the flow again, hopefully.

Okay... so Alexissa was asking in what year this was taking place and if Briagha was a real town, and since this might interest others, too, I'll just answer here.

The time is 18th century-ish, but don't expect historical accuracy. The place might be Central Europe, if there was a Europe in this story.

Briagha is not an actual place, but it will be a bit like London or Berlin, maybe also Paris. But for now, it's nothing more than that glittering (or not so glittering) capital far away; we will get there later, much later.

So that's that, and last but not least: Thanks for the reviews so far :)

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Morning came and found Natsuki Kruger lying fast asleep in her bed. Despite her adamant resolution not to, sleep had eventually overwhelmed her, and now she was lying curled up on the bed in a position that did not only look uncomfortable, but indeed was, with her upper body twisted, resting on the side, and her legs partly dangling over the bed's edge.

And once again, it was persistent knocking - no, hammering rather - on the door that woke her up.

"Ms Kruger?! Ms Kruger?!" came Igor's voice loudly from the other side, impatient, and if she had not known better, she'd say there was also a bit of worry in it. "Would you please to open the door already? I'd rather not have to resort to force and break it open," he added after a short pause.

Flinching, Natsuki thought back to the events of only a few hours ago, the aching of her wrist still reminding her of the servant's brute strength. There was not a second's doubt that he would be able to break the door open without too much effort.

"I- I'm coming," croaked Natsuki hoarsely, pushing herself up on her arms. Her whole body was aching and frozen stiff from sleeping in that awkward position without a blanket to cover her and keep her warm. The dull pain in her head had only got worse during the past hours, hammering behind her temples, and sitting up alone made her feel so sick that she just wanted to lie down again. But it was no use, she had to get up, she had to.

Natsuki got off the bed, only to fall back after the first step, completely losing balance. Her vision blurred, her heart was racing and her body trembling, and panicking, she realised that something was terribly wrong. She was sick. She was in no condition to fight or do anything at all. What should she do now? What would happen if she opened the door? What if she did not?

"Ms Kruger?" called Igor again, definitely worried now.

"A minute," she uttered, dazed looking around. The key... yes... it was lying on the commode.

Slowly, she crawled over the bed to get it, needing to hold on to the commode for a while when another wave of dizziness threatened to sweep over her.

A burning thirst was troubling her, too, becoming more and more unbearable each moment.

Carefully, she moved over to the washing table. The cloth Shizuru had used was still lying on it, as well as the earthen jug with the water. She had already drunk from it during the night.

Looking into the mirror, she was startled by her own reflection: With her ghostly pale face, the bleary eyes with dark rims, she looked just as miserable and sick as she felt.

She laid the big key down and took the jug, thirstily drinking the rest of the water, her hands slightly trembling as she did so.

Putting the jug back, her eyes wandered to the door. There was no other way, she had to open it eventually; delaying would only anger them but not help her in any way.

So she took the key and went to the door, unlocking it carefully. As the door swung slowly open, she stepped back, warily looking outside into the corridor.

Igor stood a few feet away, cautiously watching her. "Are your things all packed?" he eventually asked after a few seconds silence.

Natsuki gave him a nod.

"Then take your bags and come," he replied and moved further away from the door so that she could pass easily.

Natsuki did as she was told, and loaden with her bags she came out into the corridor.

She was to walk ahead then, Igor following her at a metres distance, now and then telling her which way to take. Mechanically, she set one foot in front of the other, her steps unsteady and her mind solely set on one desperate thought: to walk on, to walk on. Praying that the man behind her would not notice her weakness.

She took barely notice of her surroundings, the ever the same looking corridors went by in a haze. At last, they reached the gallery, and the stairs were lying in front of her, leading down into the entrance hall, into freedom. It seemed much steeper than before, the tiled floor of the hall way down below. Her feet were insecure as she took the first steps, and her heart was achingly beating against her ribs, pounding in her ears.

Her vision blurred and the holdall slipped out of her hand, toppling down the stairs, as her legs gave way and she sank down on the steps, hands reaching for the balustrade. The dufflebag slid from her shoulder, its weight painfully tearing at her arm, but she kept on clutching the wooden bars as if her life was depending on it.

She must have lost consciousness then, for the next thing she knew, was that she was sitting - or better: half lying - in a large rocking chair padded with a woolen blanket. She recognised the cupboards at the wall, full of sundry boxes, dried herbs an flowers. She was in the kitchen right now.

Marianne was bending over her, her warm brown eyes worried as she was feeling for the injury on Natsuki's forehead.

A dull pain shot through her skull and Natsuki flinched away from the other's touch, wanting to get out of the chair altogether.

"Easy." Marianne withdrew her hand and put it on the young woman's shoulder, gently but firmly preventing her from rising. "No need to be afraid," she said, and her actions and soft voice surprisingly had a calming effect on Natsuki, who was sinking back into the chair again.

"You have a fever," she said then. "You hit your head pretty hard and have a concussion as it seems." Her voice was concerned. "It would be best for you if you stayed in bed and got some rest."

Panic flickered in the green eyes. She had known it all along. They would keep her here, would keep her here forever.

"But you need to go to Andoire today, don't you?" murmured Marianne, half to herself. It was obvious the girl would not find any rest as long as she was here. "Don't worry, you will go. You will go to Andoire today," she quickly reassured the other, again putting her hand on her shoulder.

And in that moment, for some reason, Natsuki believed her.

Marianne looked questioningly at Igor, and he nodded. "I'll get the wagon ready," he said and went out of the room, leaving the two women alone.

"I will prepare some tea for you in the meantime. There's also some gruel left," said Marianne and moved around the kitchen table and over to the stove, putting the kettle on.

"I don't want any," mumbled Natsuki and tried to get out of the chair, which turned out to be not that easy a task, since the chair was of the vicious subspecies of seating furniture that would not let you get up again without struggle once you had entrusted yourself to its delusive snugness.

Marianne was not in the least deterred by her guests demur. "You need to at least drink something, it's important when having a fever. And you should not move around too much," she added, glancing back over her shoulder.

Natsuki ignored her well-meant advice and went on wobbly legs to the table, sitting down on the bench. She was still feeling terribly weak and miserable, and in no way would she be able to put up a fight, but sitting here she did not feel as help- and defenseless as she had when still lying in that chair.

Her gaze turned to the elderly woman bustling about, skimming through cupboards for herbs, opening and closing cabinets and drawers as she was busy preparing the tea.

Why were they suddenly so friendly, pretending to be so worried about her? It made no sense. Was it all but a trick? But somehow, Natsuki believed the woman when she said they'd bring her to Andoire.

Could it be that the couple were captives of the vampyre themselves and now, that the monster was sleeping, were taking their chance to help her escape? No... that did not seem to fit either.

Natsuki rested her heavy head on her hands, closing her eyes as the headache was becoming stronger again. The woman was absolutely right, she belonged in bed. But how was she to rest while she was still a prisoner in this mansion?

The splendid light of the morning sun was illuminating the kitchen, and yet, it was as if there was an immanent gloominess to this place which could not even be chased off by bright daylight.

Natsuki was jerked out of her train of thought when Marianne placed a steaming mug in front of her, the strong vapour of herbs quickly rising into her nostrils.

"Drink, it will make your fever go down."

"I don't want it," grumbled Natsuki stubbornly, slowly pushing the mug back to Marianne, who was sitting down opposite of her.

The elderly woman sighed inwardly. Dealing with Ms Kruger would not be easy.

Her gaze became became pensive as she studied the other's face. What had it been that had caught her attention so many years ago? But no, it was Shizuru who had seen them first, Marianne remembered now. She had followed Shizuru's gaze, and that was when she had noticed them standing on the other side of the place, the little dark-haired girl and her mother, one looking like a miniature version of the other.

It had not been a place for children - no, anything but that. And yet, there had been many children around that day, way too many. Pangs of guilt were setting in again; she herself had had Shizuru in tow. But there had been no other way - no, there had been no other way, no choice.

"May I have a glass of water?"

The sudden question tore Marianne out of her reminiscence. She looked at Ms Kruger, then at the neglected tea pot. "You really don't want to drink the tea?"

"No."

The elderly woman let out a sigh and got up. "As you wish," she said and went to get another mug which she filled with water from a jug standing by the stove.

"There you are." She put the mug in front of Natsuki.

"Thanks," mumbled Natsuki and picked it up, carefully sniffing before taking a small sip. Yes, it was water, pure water, no danger of getting poisoned now.

She thirstily gulped it down, almost choking as she was drinking too hasty.

"You want another?" asked Marianne when she had finished.

Natsuki simply nodded and the other went to refill her mug.

This time, Natsuki drank slowly, pausing in between sips, putting the mug down when it was still half full.

"You are from Andoire, aren't you?" asked Marianne then from the other side of the table.

Natsuki looked at her in surprise, her mouth opening as if she was about to say something but then closed again. Her brows creased, her expression now more confused than surprised, and one could almost see that she was thinking hard.

"Oh, I thought I have seen you at the fair not long ago," lied Marianne quickly when she noticed that the other's confusion turned into suspicion.

Natsuki slowly shook her head. "No... I haven't been there for years..." Her voice trailed off, and her gaze fixed on the other woman, pensive now, and unsure.

"I must be mistaken," said Marianne lightly, carefully watching the young one's face. There was something familiar in that confused, somewhat lost expression of hers. _Could it be...?_

Ms Kruger did not seem to know anything about them, did not seem to connect them with the tragedy of that day. Did she remember it at all? But no one would forget such horrors, unless... unless forgetting was the only way one's mind could cope with the experienced.

She wouldn't have thought the girl was alive, but who would have, after what had happened? Too many had died that day.

Jade eyes were cautiously watching her.

"But you do have a place to stay, in Andoire?" Marianne asked, putting on a benign smile.

"Yeah..."

"Someone to take care of you till you're feeling better again?"

Natsuki shrugged, getting slightly irritated at the interrogation. "Where's my sword?" she asked suddenly. "I'm not leaving without my sword."

"Your sword..." echoed Marianne, taken aback by the abrupt change of topic. "Well... I don't know where it is, but Igor will give it back to you before you leave. We are no thieves," she added.

The raven-haired woman did think differently but had no chance to reply, as in that very moment, the kitchen door was opened.

Startled, Natsuki turned her head, flinching as the pain in her skull intensified at the sudden movement.

With relief, she saw that it was only Igor who was coming in.

"Everything's ready," he announced, looking around. "Did I hear my name?"

"Ms Kruger was asking for her sword. I told her you'd give it back to her."

He nodded and turned to Natsuki. "It is already in the hall with the rest of your belongings."

"And my jacket?" mumbled Natsuki. "It was hanging in the dry room."

"I will get it for you," said Marianne and disappeared in the next room.

Shortly later, they all went over to the hall. Natsuki's bags were standing at the wall, close to the entrance, and leaning against the holdall was an oblong package wrapped in linen.

Natsuki started to walk towards it when she saw it, but Igor held her back. "You will get it when we reach Andoire, not a second earlier."

A dark shadow flitted across the young woman's features and she furrowed her brows in anger and frustration. "At least show it to me, I have to see it," she eventually said, her voice strained.

Igor gave her a pondering look. "Alright."

He moved over to the bags and picked up the package, starting to carefully unwrap it, revealing a basket-hilted broadsword sheathed in a dark, leather-covered scabbard. The handguard was beautifully crafted, consisting of several thin leaf-shaped bars fanning out from the crossbar, which were framed by three diagonal rows of loops at the rear borders.

Igor slowly drew the sword out, once again admiring the expertly forged blade, now gleaming as the light coming through the window behind was dancing on the steel.

The sword's design bore great resemblance with the _Schiavona_, the predominant military sword of their own country, but minor details made him think that it was of different origin. Still, the ornamented basket was quite uncommon for this area.

Even while he was admiring the blade, Igor never let Natsuki completely out of sight, and he noticed quite well the hardening of her features as she watched him handling the weapon.

"You see," he said, sheathing the sword again, "it is here and in immaculate condition. I'll put it into your bag, and when we're in Andoire, it is all yours again. I hope you will understand that I can't take the risk of handing you the weapon while we're still here."

"And now come." Igor shouldered Natsuki's bags and turned to the door. "The day's not getting any younger."

Walking down the steps into the yard, Natsuki was surprised to see the horses put to a trolley instead of the coach that had brought them here yesterday.

"I have some errands to run and goods to buy," explained the white-haired man curtly upon noticing her surprised look. He threw Natsuki's belongings onto the wagon bed and deftly climbed after them.

Behind the driver's seat, there was a wooden box fitted into the bed, closed with a sturdy padlock. He put the bags inside and locked the box, shoving the key into his pocket.

Jumping down again, he gave Natsuki a thoughtful look. "You can sit with me on the driver's perch, but before you slip off your seat and get under the wheels I'd rather have you sit in the back. There are enough rugs, so it won't be too uncomfortable."

"I'll take the back," she said after a minute's thought.

Igor offered to help her up, but she refused and climbed onto the wagon all by herself, half regretting her decision. Her body just didn't work the way it used to this morning, and when she finally made it, she felt shaky from exertion and as if she was almost fainting again.

Crouching on the wagon's bed, her heart was still beating fast, but the dizziness had vanished almost as fast as it had come. As the elderly man had said, there were a few rugs and also empty corn and potato bags, and so she began to arrange them in front of the box.

Meanwhile, Marianne, who had followed them outside, bade farewell to her husband. "Take care," she whispered, squeezing him one last time.

"You too," he murmured before turning to the trolley and swiftly mounting the driver's seat.

Marianne's eyes moved to Ms Kruger, who had accustomed herself in the back. It was practically impossible to fathom the young woman's thoughts and motives, but at least for the time being, she was tame, harmless, and would not cause any problems on the journey. Or at least Marianne was praying that it was that way.

Igor waved her goodbye and off they drove, down the gravel path, quickly disappearing behind the barren scrubs and trees.

When she had lost sight of them, Marianne turned and walked up the stairs again. She crossed the hall and entered the kitchen, with a sigh regarding the neglected tea mug.

"What a waste," she murmured and picked it up.

Taking a sip of the now cold brew, she moved over to the window, lost in thought staring outside.


End file.
